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1910 -ty-third Midsummer High Jinks of the Bohemian 

Club, Bohemia, Sonoma County, California 
August 6th, 1910 



THE CAVE MAN 

A Play of the Redwoods 



Text by 

Charles K. Field 

Music by 

W. J. McCoy 



INTRODUCTION AND SYNOPSES 



CHARLES K. FIELD 

SIRE 



COPYRIGHT, 1910 

BY THE 
BOHEMIAN CLUB 




h^ f6 '-ill/. 



*^ 



^L4..,.«^-^X.*A- 



Foreword 

The Grove Play of the Bohemian Club is the outgrowth of 
an illuminated spectacle produced annually among redwood trees 
in California. In The Man in the Forest, at the Midsummer 
Jinks of 1902, this spectacle first became a play, the text being 
the work of one author and the music the work of one composer. 
Since then, the music drama has been steadily elaborated. Yet 
it has been the aim, excepting the play of Montezuma (1903), 
to produce a play inherently of the forest. 

The Cave Man (1910) has its inspiration in the fact that 
the sequoia groves of California, one of which the Bohemian 
Club owns, are the only forests now existing that resemble the 
forests of the cave man's day. While it has not yet been estab- 
lished that man of the cave type occupied this region of the earth, 
migrations here bringing people possibly of a much more ad- 
vanced culture, it is sufficient for the purposes of the grove 
dramatist to be able to present characters of the more ancient 
type in a natural setting startlingly close to the original scenery 
of the cave man's life. 

No attempt has been made to reproduce the exact conditions 
of speech, appearance, or musical expression. Simple language, 
to set forth such ideas and passions as might make a presentable 
play, has been employed and has been reinforced by interpre- 
tative music in the manner of today. Many thousands of years 
of progress may lie, in reality, between the types exhibited in 
this drama, yet, in the physical aspects of the life of these people, 
care has been taken to exclude such anachronisms as the use of 
the bow and arrow and the making of pictures on rock or in 
carved bone— accomplishments that post-dated the discovery of 
fire by tens of thousands of years. The characters have been 
costumed to suggest men of a primitive type, yet far removed 
from the creature that was to evolve the gorilla of our day. 
That creature, also a character in the drama, doubtless resembled 
the cave man more nearly than his descendant resembles us. His 
quest of the woman in the play is warranted by the reported 
anxiety of modern Africans regarding their own women and 
the gorilla. 

The episode of the tar pool is based upon the recently reported 
discoveries in a similar deposit, in California, where remarkably 
frequent remains of the animals and birds named by Long Arm 
in his narrative have been brought to light. To Dr. J. C. 
Merriam, of the University of California, under whose direction 
these discoveries have been reported, I am indebted for a sympa- 
thetic editing of the text of this play. 



I desire to record my gratitude to those members of the 
Bohemian Club whose co-operation, well in accord with the 
traditions which have made possible the club's admirable pro- 
ductions, has carried my dream of the cave man to fulfillment. 
Mr. W. J. McCoy, already wearing the laurels of the 
Hamadryads, undertook to express my play in music when the 
task could be accomplished only by severe sacrifice. That he 
has contributed to the musical treasures of the club a work 
which, perhaps, excels his former composition is, I trust, some 
measure of reward. Mr. Edward J. Duffey, the wizard of the 
illuminated grove, has rendered service equally important to a 
play whose action is written round the phenomenon of fire. Mr. 
George E. Lyon, that rare combination of artist and carpenter, 
with the assistance of Dr. Harry Carleton, has performed the 
feat of making the hillside more beautiful, adding stage scenery 
without sacrilege. To Mr. Frank L. Mathieu, veteran of many 
battles with amateur talent, I am indebted for untiring super- 
vision of the production of the play and for valuable suggestions 
in its arrangement. Mr. Porter Garnett, authority upon grove 
plays and himself sire imminent, has proved his loyalty by work- 
ing all night upon the making of this book of the play. Mr. 
J. de P. Teller has drilled two choirs in the difficult music of the 
Epilogue. Mr. David Bispham, a new member of the club and 
an artist of international fame, has shown himself imbued also 
with the amateur spirit which is one of the important elements 
in the grove play's charm. To the Board of Directors, and to 
their immediate predecessors, with their respective Jinks Com- 
mittees, whose sympathy and aid under unusual circumstances 
have made possible the Midsummer Jinks of 1910, and to all 
the brothers in Bohemia who have joined me in the labor and 
pleasure of that effort, I subscribe myself in sincere acknowledg- 
ment, 

CHARLES K. FIELD. 



The Scene 

The scene is a forested hillside in the geological period pre- 
ceding the present, — some tens of thousands of years ago. The 
landscape is black ivith night, but betiveen the treetops are 
glimpses of the stars. The orchestral introduction is in keeping 
with the darkness; it suggests the chill of an era zvhen fire is 
unknown, and the terror that pervades the prehistoric forest at 
night. Into the glimpses of sky at the top of the hill comes the 
Hush of daivn. The red fades into blue and light comes through 
the forest, progressively dozvn the hillside. The radiance of 
morning discloses a grove of giant conifers, rich in ferns and in 
blossoming vines; it is spring in the forest. Rock outcrops from 
the loiver parts of the hillside and a small stream plashes into a 
succession of pools; at the base of the hill the rock appears as a 
great ledge, the upper portion of which overhangs. Small plants 
cling to the uneven face of the cliff and young trees stand along 
its rim. Under the overhanging ledge there is a narrow entrance, 
closed with two boulders, that is high enough to admit a man 
stooping slightly. The ground immediately before the cave is 
level, but soon drops in a succession of ledges to a plateau filled 
with ferns and boidders through zvhich the stream flows. Blossom- 
ing plants edge the pools and the lower and larger pool has tall 
reeds, tides, and ferns about it. The stream continues on to a 
river that runs westzvard to the sea. 



The Story of The Play 

Once upon a time, some tens of thousands of years ago, the 
greater part of the northern hemisphere was covered with a 
mighty forest of conifers. Its trees rose hundreds of feet in 
height; their huge trunks, twenty and thirty feet through, were 
shaggy with a reddish hark; between them grew smaller and 
gentler trees, thick ferns and blossoming vines. Today, in the 
sequoia groves of California stands all that is left of that 
magnificent woodland. 

On a memorable night, when the moon searched the deep 
shadows of Bohemia's redwoods for memories of the past and 
the mystery of night magniiied our trees to the size of their 
brethren in other groves, I sat with W. J. McCoy before the high 
jinks stage. Fancy has ever been stimulated by fact and we were 
aware that we looked upon such a scene as the cave man knew. 
And so in the moonlight we dreamed that the forest was still 
growing in the comparative youth of mankind, that no light other 
than the fires of heaven had ever shone in the grove, that the 
man of that day wooed his mate and fought great beasts for 
their raw flesh and made the first fire among those very trees. 

The prehistoric forest was very dark and as dangerous as it 
was dark. Therefore the cave men went into their caves when 
daylight faded among the trees and they blocked the cave door- 
ways with great boulders and they slept soundly on leaves and 
rushes until the daylight peeped through the chinks of the 
boulders. One morning, Broken Foot, a big man with heavy 
dark hair on his body and an expression that was not amiable 
even for a cave man's face, rolled back the blocking of his cave 
and crept cautiously out. It happened that a deer had chosen 
to drink from a pool by Broken Foot's cave. A great stone broke 
the neck of the luckless deer and the cave man breakfasted well. 

As he sat there on the rocks, carving with his flint knife the 
raw body of the deer, certain neighbors joined him, one by one. 
They were Scar Face, a prodigious glutton but sharp witted and 
inventive, Fish Eyes and Short Legs, young hunters with 



THE CAVE MAN 



Specialties, and Wolf Skin, the father of Singing Bird, a much- 
admired maiden just entering womanhood. Then ensued such 
talk as belonged to that period — stories of hunting, of escape 
and also of discoveries. Many remarkable things were being put 
forth in those days by the inquiring spirit of men, shells to hold 
water, a log that would obey a man with a paddle, even a wolf 
had been tamed and made a companion of a hunter. So the 
morning passed in interesting discussion and all would have been 
harmonious in the little group before Broken Foot's cave had 
not Short Legs listened eagerly to Wolf Skin's description of 
his daughter and announced his intention of mating with her. 
As he rose to seek the girl. Broken Foot knocked him down 
with a sudden blow and bade him think no more of the cave 
maiden. At this. Short Legs, although no match for the great 
bully, burst out with a torrent of abuse, calling Broken Foot many 
unpleasant names, and Fish Eyes, his inseparable friend, came 
to his aid with more unflattering words, even accusing Broken 
Foot of murdering his brother to get his cave and his mate* 
Broken Foot, making ready to seek the girl, listened indifferently 
to this tirade until Short Legs called him a coward. 

Earlier in the day Wolf Skin had told of meeting a stranger 
in the forest, a young man who carried a singular weapon, made 
of both wood and stone. This stranger had inquired for the 
cave of Broken Foot, a man who dragged one foot as he walked. 
Short Legs accused Broken Foot of running away from this new 
comer. This was too much. Broken Foot, already part way up 
the hill on his way to Singing Bird, turned back toward the cave 
men threateningly. Just then a young man came along a higher 
path. He looked down on the man who dragged one foot as 
he walked. With a terrible cry of rage he leaped down the hill. 
Broken Foot, with his great strength, had been the champion of 
those woods for years. But Long Arm, the stranger, carried the 
first stone axe, and under this new weapon Broken Foot went 
down into the dead leaves. 

Then, of course, the whole story came out. The young 
stranger proved to be the son of the man whom Broken Foot had 
murdered. The boy had been with the two men at the time. 
The scene of the murder was a small lake into which tar con- 
tinually oozed, making a sticky trap for all sorts of wild animals. 
A similar place exists in California today, where animals are 
caught, and geologists have found in the ground there great 
quantities of bones of prehistoric animals, the sabretooth tigers 
and the great wolves of the cave man's day. Here was enacted 
the tragedy of which Long Arm tells. The boy got away and 
was reared by the Shell People on their mounds beside the sea. 



THE CAVE MAN 



He had invented a new weapon and now he had come back into 
the forest to kill Broken Foot and to get again the cave of his 
father. 

Long Arm was kindly welcomed by the cave men. They had 
no love for the dead bully and they respected a good fight. So 
the boy was welcomed home again. Yet the greeting held a note 
of warning in it. Old One Eye, fleeing through the forest, told 
them that the terrible man-beast was again roving through the 
trees. The cave men did not know that this creature was but 
the ancestor of the gorilla of today. To them he was a man 
who seemed to be a beast. They could not understand him but 
they knew that he was larger than any other man and stronger 
than all of them together, and they gave him a wide berth. 

Long Arm was left alone in the cave he had regained. He 
sat on the rocks, in the pleasant shade of the trees, and chipped 
away at the edge of his flint axe. He was very well satisfied 
with himself and he sang a kind of exultant song in tribute to 
the weapon that had served him so well. As he worked and sang 
the sparks flew from the flint and by one of those chances which 
have made history from the dawn of time, some dry grass was 
kindled. No one in the world had made fire before that day. 
Long Arm saw what he thought was some bright new kind of 
serpent. He struck it a fatal blow v/ith his axe and picked it up ; 
it bit him and with a cry he shook it from his hand. Chances go 
in pairs, sometimes. The burning twig fell into a little pool and 
was extinguished. Long Arm observed and studied all this, a 
very much puzzled but interested young man. Then occurred 
one of those moments that have lifted men above the brutes. 
Long Arm struck his flints together and made fire again and man 
has been repeating and improving that process ever since. 

That was destined to be a red-letter day, if we may use such 
a calendar term, in the life of that young cave man. He had got 
his cave again and he had discovered something that would make 
it the best home in all the world, yet it was not complete. And 
just then he heard Wolf Skin's daughter singing among the trees. 
Long Arm dropped his new toy and it burned out on the rock. 
He hid behind a great tree and watched. Singing Bird came, 
unsuspecting, down the path. One of the pools near the cave 
was quiet and the young girl was not proof against the allure- 
ment of this mirror. She had twined some blossoms in her hair 
and she was enjoying the reflection when Long Arm stole toward 
her. But she saw his reflection too, in time to leap away from 
him. Then Long Arm wooed her instead of following to take 
her by force, for that was not at all a certainty, since she might 
easily outrun him. So he told her of himself and his stone axe 
and his victory and his cave, making it all as attractive as possible 
and at last he told her of the fire and made it before her eyes 



THE CAVE MAN 



with his sparking flints. Singing Bird was deeply impressed by 
all these things and by the confident manner of Long Arm, and 
especially by the bright new plaything, and she came gradually 
nearer to see these wonders. 

Then suddenly the man-beast came upon the two, and the 
woman leaped in terror to the arms of the man. The man-beast 
barred the way to the cave. Then Long Arm braved him, though 
it meant death, that the girl might flee. The man-beast seized 
Long Arm's boasted axe and snapped it like a twig. Then he 
grasped the man and proceeded to crush him in his hairy hold. 
But the girl, under the spell of her new love, had run but a 
little way and then, in spite of her terror, turned to look back. 
She shrieked wildly at Long Arm's peril and the great beast 
threw the man aside and came after the girl. She tried desperately 
to evade him and to get to the narrow door of the cave. Mean- 
while Long Arm had been only stunned. Recovering, he saw the 
firebrand burning where he had dropped it on the rocks. He 
seized it, remembering its bite, and again attacked the man-beast. 
Here was something new, and very terrible. No animal, from 
that day to this, has stood against fire. The man-beast fled into 
the forest. 

Then Long Arm came back in triumph. Wonderful days fol- 
lowed, with the happy discovery of cooked meat, and the tragedy 
of a forest fire, but through all their lives Long Arm and Singing 
Bird remembered this day when, in the joy of their escape from 
death and under the spell of the woodland in springtime, they 
began their life together in the cave. 



10 T H E C A'V E MAN 



Plan of the Music 

1 Prejludi;. 

2 Thd fight be:twi;i;n Long Arm and Brokejn Foot 

3 Long Arm's story of the tar pool 

4 Thf Song of thf Flint 

5 Long Arm's discovfry of firf. 

6 Thf Spring Song of thf Cavf Maidfn 

7 Long Arm's battlf with thf Man-Bfast 

8 Thf Song of Mating 

9 Intfrmfzzo — Thf Dancf of thf FirFFlifs 

10 Thf Man-Bfast's capturf of Singing Bird 

11 Thf rFscuF 

12 Thf forfst firf 



The Epilogue 



13 Choir of Spiritual Voicfs 

14 Thf Song of thf Star 

15 Chorus: Thf March of thf Dawn 



THE C A V E M AN 



11 



Synopsis of the Music 



It has been the effort of the composer, in writing the music 
of The Cave Man, to parallel, as far as possible advantageously 
in musical expression, the ideas, occurrences and pictures as they 
occur in the text and action. 

The prelude is the result of an effort toward the creation of 
atmosphere conducive to a full appreciation of the scenes that 
follow, and may be taken as a tone picture in the life of primitive 
man. The thematic material upon which it is constructed con- 
sists of two principal motives : 

The motive of Broken Foot 



OJiaaXxr 



tlil-Lr-f ''F f — 'F ^f- — F ^l 




• — -r p — 'f-p 

and the motive of Long Arm 




These two themes are developed alternately as the night 
gradually merges into day, and the climax culminates as Broken 
Foot, emerging from the cave, slays a deer and drags it up the 
rocks for his morning feast. 

A development of these themes is also used for the struggle 
between Long Arm and Broken Foot, resulting in the slaying of 
the latter. 



12 



THE CAVE MAN 



Long Arm, fashioning a new weapon for defense against 
the Man-Beast, sings a song of the flint: 



C\X.Qiaj<ff KdoiitA/r 




The theme of the flint is used as a basis upon which the 
musical structure is built. This theme is heard later to illustrate 
Long Arm's reasoning about the origin of fire. 

Following immediately upon this is heard the motive of fire, 



<Xn<JUvtvt(. 




which always occurs upon the appearance of fire and is used in 
a much intensified form during the burning of the forest. 

This merges without interruption into the Spring Song of 
the Cave Maiden : 



'^<yair OMiAKnitir 



■ ft 




The music of this song is to be considered as forming from 
this point a love motive and is heard during the ramble of the 
cave maiden through the forest and during the wooing of the 
lovers, culminating during a concerted number in their mating. 



THE CAVE MAN 



13 



The motive of the Man-Beast- 




is introduced at the entrance of the gorilla and continues, treated 
contrastingly, with the motive of fire during his presence in the 
action, developing cumulatively into the music of the combat 
between Long Arm and the Man-Beast. 

As night-fall comes on after the mating, the fireflies are seen 
twinkling rhythmically in the forest to the music of the Dance 
of the Fireflies symbolizing the joy of the lovers: 





In the second part the musical motives introduced in the first 
part_ are again heard treated variously with a view toward in- 
tensifying the emotions suggested by the text and action, culmi- 
nating in the forest nre and its extinguishment by the rain, thus 
ending the story of the play. 



14 



THE CAVE MAN 



The epilogue, which succeeds directly the play proper, begins 
with the sound of spiritual voices heard from the treetops, enquir- 
ing of the future of man. 




The musical material of this angelic choral is a modification 
of the twelfth century consecutive fifths of Hucbald : 
In reply, the voice of a star is heard — 




singing of the future progress of human intelligence, which is to 
"climb through the strengthening dawn, while the fetters of 
sleep drop away." 

This is followed by a vision, in allegorical form, illustrating 
the progress of intellect through varying stages to its height. 
The music of this section is in march form — 




and begins in a very subdued manner with the gradual addition 
of shepherd's pipe and trumpets of warriors 



and finally enlisting 
the full power of chorus and orchestra, glorifying the heights 
already attained and pointing far out into the work of the future. 

W. J. McCOY. 



T H E C A V E M A N 15 



THE SONG OF THE FLINT. 

L^NG Arm : Flint in my hand ! 

All the wood waits for me; 

I am its master 

While there is sunlight, 

While I can see. 

Sharpened and shaped for me. 

Lashed to my oaken arm, 

Strike at my quarry now. 

Bite to the heart, 

Hungry tooth of the flint ! 

Strike ! 

Flint on flint; 

Send up the little stars 

That fade ere they fly. 

*I shall bring home with me. 
Home to my cave. 
Beasts that have longed for me. 
Followed me, sprung at me 
Out of the shadow 
Into the sun; 

Scarred with the flint's bite. 
Blood-drip to mark the path. 
We shall come dragging them. 
We shall come home with them, 
The black flint and I! 

Strike! Strike! 

Flint on flint. 

Spark after spark; 

Wake from your black depths 

The lights that go flashing 

Like the bright bugs that play 

Over water at evening. 

Men of the neighbor caves, 
They shall behold us 
Hunting together, 
Laden with SDoil ; 
They shall make way for us ; 
Give us a free road 
Home to our rest; 
He that would bar us 
Shall lie in the leaves ! 
And from the cave-mouths. 



16 THECAVEMAN 

Eyes like the young deer's 
Shall follow with longing 
The feet of the hunter, 
While we come home 
The black flint and I! 

Strike! Strike! Strike! 

Flint on flint, 

Spark after spark. 

Faster and faster; 

Out of the dark. 

Out of the heart of the oak 

And the flint's black belly, 

The friend that shall fight for me, 

Smite for me, bite for me. 

My weapon is born ! 



THE SPRING SONG OF THE 
CAVE MAIDEN 

Warm slept I in the cave's deep shadow, sweet 
with love was my dream ! 
I dreamed that I roved. 
Far following a pathway strange, beside an un- 
known stream — 
There was I loved ! 
Although I fled he caught me, his great limbs 
held my feet, 
Strongly he held me near. 
Ah, mightily pressed. 
Yet, struggling not, I lay there, strangely still 
nor fain to be fleet; 
Glad of his breast ! 

Within the cave I woke and heard the stream 

Murmur his words. 

Whispering near; 
My bosom answered, throbbing with my dream; 

The call of mating birds 

Filled my ear; 
The woodland spoke 

A message clear 

When I awoke ! 

So came I down the sunlit path that leads I 
know not where, — 
Dear sun, be my guide ! 



T H E C A V E M A N 17 



Aly blood with love is warm as thou hast made 
the quickening air; 
Spring flows full tide. 
Above me, see, the tender doves are billing with 
trembling wings 
On every tree ; 
Oh joy of spring, the world is full of happy 
mating things, 
Welcoming me ! 
For I shall find my lover by some stream. 
And shall not flee 
From his will ; 
And all the aching sweetness of my dream 
Our happiness to be 

Shall fulfill; 
Even apart. 

No time shall still 
His beating heart! 

Shine, shine on me, dear sun, and lead me, fol- 
lowing thy beams. 
To where he may wait; 
Oh joy of spring, oh love more warm than sun, 
more dear than dreams. 
Give me my mate! 

THE SONG OF MATING 

Tun Man. 
Lo, I have filled him with terror; 

From the fire he fled away! 
No more my cave shall fear him, 

I shall keep him still at bay. 
Before my cave the fire shall burn 

Through all the terror haunted night. 
And all the wondering woods shall learn 

How mightily these comrades fight, 
The fire and I ! 

The Woman. 
How can it be he has conquered, 

Alone and unaided by stone ! 
Happy and safe will his cave be, 

Although he shall guard it alone. 

The Man. 
Ah, see, my cave is waiting, 
Safely guarded from harms. 



18 THECAVEMAN 



Share it with me! 
My bed of leaves is lonely, 
Closely folded in my arms, 
Warm wilt thou be. 

The; Woman. 
Ah, like a leaf that the river 
Tenderly floats to rest 
Upon the shore, 
A tide of love now bears me 
Blissfully to his breast, 
To wander no more. 

Th^ Man. 
And all night long together we shall rest 
And feel the throbbing of each other's breast, 
And closely, softly, warmly lie 
In the cave's deep shelter, thou and I; 
Come, share my cave, the leaves await. 

The; Woman. 
Take me, take me for thy mate ! 

Thk Man and the; Woman. 
Ah, see, the cave is waiting, safely guarded from 
harms. 
Warm will we be; 
On leafy bed soft lying, closely held in thy arms, 
Mating with thee ! 



THECAVEMAN 19 



Epilogue 



The Ascent of Man 

(Choristers, with organ accompaniment, at the top of the hill.) 
Spiritual Voices 

Deep is the sleep of man; 
Clothed on with darkness, he sleepeth; 
Night lieth heavily upon his eyelids; 
He hath forgotten the glory of the eternal, 
He knoweth only the dream of time. 
(A star glows in the darkness and a voice sings from it.) 
The Star. 
Harken ! I am the voice that stirs forever in the restless heart 
of man. 

Within the vaulted center of a shell, 

Far flung beyond the reaching of the tide, 
Unceasing echo of its ceaseless swell, 
The accents of the ocean still abide. 
For the shell has been held in the breast of the 
sea, 
And never the winds o'er the changing sands 
Shall silence the innermost ecstasy 

That turns to the ocean and understands. 

Spiritual Voices. 
What shall awaken man, 
Breaking the dream of the senses ? 
Deep is the sleep that hath fallen upon him ; 
When shall he wake to the glory of the eternal, 
Losing the false shadow of time? 

The Star. 
Lo, I shall sing in his heart through the ages, 
Song he must hear through his clamorous 
dream. 
Echoes of me from his priests and his sages, 
Till at the last I restore and redeem. 
I shall sing and he shall hear, 

Vaguely, faintly, far-away; 
In his sleep-enchanted ear 
I shall tell him of the day, 



20 THECAVEMAN 

He shall grope along the steep, 
Ever climbing in his sleep, 
Ever upward, following 
The ideal that I sing. 

And my music shall finally drown the lie that 

his slumber has spoken; 
I shall fill his heart with my song and the bonds 

of his dream shall be broken; 

He shall climb through the strengthening dawn, 
While the fetters of sleep drop away. 

Till the shadows of sense shall be gone 
In the glory of infinite day ! 

(An archangelic voice speaks from the sky.) 
Th^ Voice. 

Man hath discovered fire ; 

He hath watched the works of his hands. 

And thought hath awakened within him. 

Behold, he shall climb, 

Up the hard path of the ages. 

Up from the gloom of the senses, 

Into the glory of mind ! 

CHORAL AND PROCESSIONAL 

(Cave men climb upward in shadow until they are replaced 
by shepherds, climbing upward in a dim light.) 

Shi;ppidrds. 

Night made the sky and mountains one; 

Behold, above the mountain wall 
The blue is dreaming of the sun. 

Expectant, hushed, augurial. 

Let us rise up in the dawn. 

Forth with our flocks to the tender green 
spaces ; 
Come, let us up and be gone. 

Wandering ever and seeking new places. 

(As the shepherds reach a higher level they are replaced by 
farmers who climb in turn upward in a stronger light. Mean- 
while the entrance of shepherds at their lower level continues.) 

FarmiSRS. 

Now, where the little stars have gone 
All night on tiptoe from the hills. 



THECAVEMAN 21 



Blossom the roses of the dawn ; 

The arc of heaven with promise thrills. 

Come, let us out to the soil, 

Blest with the sun and the rains; 
Bread is the guerdon of toil, 

And the home we have builded remains. 
(As the farmers reach a higher level they are replaced by 
warriors, who in turn climb upzvard in a stronger light. Mean- 
while the entrance of farmers at their loiver level continues.) 

Warriors. 
Clear light in the sky! 
Day draweth nigh; 
The world, with hilltop and plain, 
Appeareth again. 
The stars have melted in morning air; 

So shall the weaker nations flee; 
Might gives right; it is ours to share 
The spoils of the land and sea. 
(As the warriors reach a higher level they are replaced by 
philosophers climbing in a stronger light. Meamuhile the entrance 
of warriors at their lower level continues.) 

Philosophers. 
The edge of the world is afire; 

Darkness has vanished away; 
Exultant awakens the choir 

That heralds the coming of day. 
Light has been vouchsafed to us, 

Clear the world about us lies, 
Yet the mind mysterious 

Seeth further than the eyes; 
Riseth on its unseen wings 
To immeasurable things! 
(The philosophers have reached the highest visible path. The 
hillside is thronged zvith the processional of the ages.) 
O growing radiance that streams 

Above this life's horizon line 
And casts upon our human dreams 

Reflection of a light divine, 

O dawn immortal, pour on us 
Thy strong effulgence, glorious, 
Over all night victorious. 
Sunrise eternal, shine I 

(A fanfare of trumpets. The dawn light begins at the top 
of the hill.) 



22 THECAVEMAN 



Spiritual Voicejs. 
Man awaketh from the dream of the senses ; 
Time falleth from him like a shadow, 
Glory clotheth him evermore ! 

(He who spoke the Sermon on the Mount appears above the 
gathered multitude. A splendor of light hursts upon the forest 
and a cloud of zvhite doves hovers above the climbing hosts.) 

All: 

Hosanna! Behold: It is the Sun! 

(The procession is led upward into the light.) 



The stage directed by Frank L. Mathieu. The scene and 
properties designed and built by George E. Lyon. The lighting 
and fire effects devised and executed by Edward J. Duffy. The 
costumes prepared by Goldstein & Co., under the supervision of 
John C. Merritt. The calcium lights managed by F. W. French. 

The music, conducted by the composer, rendered by the fol- 
lowing forces : 

A chorus of sixty-five voices, consisting of seventeen first 
tenors, sixteen second tenors, sixteen first basses, and sixteen 
second basses, recruited from the membership of the club. 

A choir of fifteen boys, recruited from the vested choirs of 
St. John's Church, Oakland, and Christ Church, Alameda. 

An orchestra of sixty instruments, distributed as follows : 

Ten first violins, eight second violins, six violas, six cellos, 
six double basses, two flutes, two oboes, two clarinets, English 
horn, two bassoons, four trumpets, four horns, three trombones, 
harp, tuba, tympani and drums. 

John dE P. TE;LL:eR, Chorus Master. 
John Josephs, Concert Master. 



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